


Hunger

by kesomon



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Eating Disorders, Gen, Hypoglycemia, Mental Health Issues, hunger, hyper-metabolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 22:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7125163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesomon/pseuds/kesomon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry Allen finds he has a lot to get used to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> Squick/trigger warning for eating disorders caused by rapid metabolic changes requiring dietary adjustments.
> 
> This started as a light-hearted combination of two ideas: one, a hyper-metabolism like Barry's could essentially mean he never has to use the bathroom if his body uses EVERYTHING he eats. and two, he could probably digest non-edible items like nuts and bolts as a result. Spawned by an episode of MASH in which Klinger eats a jeep trying to prove he's nuts enough to get sent home. Naturally, as most of my things do, it devolved into grim fridge horror territory. Enjoy!

Barry finds, when he wakes, that there is a lot he has to get used to.

Never mind the backlog of work he has to catch up on at the station, and the fact that his apartment lease ran out while he was comatose. Not just Iris, and Eddie, and the fact that Central City is rapidly becoming the setting of the latest _X-men_ franchise, without the safety of fictional events. No, that’s not the weirdest of it.

His own body has changed.

Once upon a time he would’ve killed for abs and now whenever he glances at himself in the mirror it’s like staring at a stranger. He feels awkward in his own skin like he hasn’t since puberty first dug its claws into his bones and made him grow like a weed given Miracle-Gro. Boy, had that been a fun summer; laying in the dark, too sore to move, unable to join Iris at the camp he’d longed to attend all school year. All because his genetics decided he had to be Tall, without any of the added Buffness that would’ve made him at least less of a target come the following school year.

Now it’s like puberty came back for a second round, and brought its friends for backup. Barry doesn’t know himself anymore. He trips over his own feet, knocks items off of tables with his elbows. To his mortification, he wakes up not a few times needing to change his sheets, because his skin is just _too sensitive_. He’s really quite relieved he doesn’t live at home anymore, and that he’d chosen to splurge on the higher rent for the in-unit washer/dryer; excellent for avoiding awkward conversations with parental figures and judging looks from total strangers at the laundromat.

Fortunately, with his newfound speed, he can catch himself before a pratfall, snatch objects before they can move even a centimeter off-alignment. He learns just how many times he can bring himself off before he feels satiated enough not to make a mess at night, and wishes he could brag about it to somebody. He adapts, slowly, but with surprising ease; the lightning in his blood wants to please its new wielder.

The hunger is less forgiving.

Barry’s always been skinny. Iris bemoans his metabolism all the time, says it’s not fair he can eat an entire plate of brownies and not gain an ounce. (So can she, but Barry’s learned the hard way not to compare. She may be headstrong and fierce, but Iris has her own insecurities.) When he was going through his growth spurts in Junior High, he ate like a piranha, and found himself opening up his horizons to a lot of weird new foods in his hunt for the right nutrition. Then puberty settled out, and Barry went back to his small-portion grazing.

Now, he feels it like a dark, gnawing creature settled behind his breast, never truly _satisfied_.

At first, it was small. He was running on the reserves built up from his coma, from the IV of nutrients Dr. Snow had him on for 9 months. He ate normally, if in slightly larger portions than his usual. Joe joked that he was making up for missing a year’s worth of holiday feasts.

All the while, he uses his speed, and the creature in him grows. It consumes him, until he’s waking up on the pavement, Iris’s worried face above him, and she’s telling him he passed out. Danton Black will have to wait.

It’s just one more adjustment to his life. With Caitlin’s help and Cisco’s ingenuity, Barry gets back on his feet. Nutritionist websites allow him to plot a balanced diet, how to space out his calorie intake without feeling sick - purely psychological, he knows, after he consumed 10 full Big Belly Burger Meals (supersized) and didn’t feel like he was going to burst but his brain still had trouble coping and nearly made him lose all of it on Cisco’s shoes. He makes it to 10,000 calories a day, and feels less unstable for it. But the hunger still sits, a dark little shadow in his gut, never quite out of mind.

Time passes. Barry gets faster. With each new trick he pulls off, the hunger stirs, but he can ignore it. An extra Cisco-bar to compensate and he’s good to go. He breaks the sound barrier, runs down the face of a tidal wave until he breaks the time barrier. He learns how to phase through solid matter, and attributes the vertigo later to the rush of adrenaline after James Jessie is back behind bars.

He ignores it, until he can’t anymore. He can’t afford his apartment anymore; feeding himself takes too much of his already meager civil salary. But he can’t stop eating, because the city needs the Flash. Joe offers - or lets Barry offer, really - to move back in together. The excuse Barry gives is for loneliness, convenience, nostalgia. He moves in his stuff, and can breathe a little easier. But the hunger is still there, and he’s craving things that a pregnant woman would turn their noses up at. Ice cream and pickles on steak is surprisingly palatable, if not the most appetizing combination.

It isn’t until he’s staring at the selection of raw liver in the local deli and contemplating snatching it up and eating it right there, that Barry begins to suspect something is Very Wrong.

Reporting this to Caitlin only proves him right.

She demands samples, takes blood, hair, skin, runs every test available. Finally, she’s holding out the little cups, and Barry falters. Because he can’t remember the last time he actually had to _use_ the bathroom, for either business.

Turns out, he can digest anything, completely. No waste to spare. It’s somewhat disturbing and gross, but also kinda cool, and really, really worrying.

His metabolism is in overdrive, and he’s not in control of the wheel anymore.

Iron deficiency can’t be fought with standard supplements. Calcium tablets from the supermarket aren’t enough.

Cisco is the one who comes up with a solution, watching MASH of all things.

“You’re not serious,” Barry says, eyeing the platter dubiously.

“Absolutely,” the engineer confirms. “You’re anemic because you can’t get enough iron, thanks to your whacked-out crazy metabolism, and super-healing can only combat bone loss to a degree. So it makes more sense to get it in a more direct method.”

“Eating hardware supplies, though?” He pokes at the offering, powdery lumps of white calcium carbonate mixed with pure iron ball-bearings, like a robot’s idea of snack mix.

“You can digest anything, Barry. People used to do this for fun, you know, back in the sideshow circus heydays.” Barry makes a face at him. Like he needs the reminder of how freakish this is. Cisco shrugs. “Hey, at least you don’t have to do a Klinger and wash it down with motor oil. I’ve got some stuff that’s a bit more palatable.”

“Ugh,” Barry states. But he eats it all, flash-fast, and immediately feels better.

He should’ve known better than to doubt his friends. They’re rarely wrong.

He doesn’t think the hunger will ever truly fade, but this is a solution he can live with. It’s just one more thing to get used to.


End file.
